Reminiscent
by Friends Babe
Summary: Neela/Ray fic set during Haunted.


_New fic! It's set during Haunted and is told from Neela's POV. I've spliced lines from the actual show with Neela's thoughts etc ... Hope you enjoy! Opinions, thoughts and constructive criticism always welcome_

_Nina x_

**Reminiscent**

**Part 1/1**

"_He can't be that sick, he's walking around" _

How I smile now when I think back on that comment. Innocently said, without even a second glance. The man in the cubicle didn't look ill, he looked … he looked really healthy. At the time I was annoyed with Morris for calling me down, and slightly pissed that he seemed to be paging me for every patient he didn't want to deal with that day. In hindsight I should have known something was up, but then, in that moment, it didn't even register that practically the entire ER staff were gathered at the nurses station, watching me walk over to him. In my head, every time I imagined our reunion, it was always at the airport. Me waiting at the gate and Ray appearing there (strangely, in my fantasies, he seemed to be neither walking nor in a wheelchair. Analyse that as you will). There was always a smile, always a hug, a light kiss on the cheek. I'd have things planned, a fun filled evening with old movies, old friends, old lives. Instead I marched up to him and gave him the full brunt of my heavily practiced, Dr Rasgotra, Surgeon, routine.

"_You bastard!" _

In my fantasies, I never greeted him with an insult.

But the hug was there, the easy instinctive hug that told me he didn't mind. That really, we weren't the type of couple to have over blown romantic reunions at an airport. That this, the surprise, the joke, the laughter, was much more appropriate. I suppose, looking back, it was better that he surprised me. It tells me now (now that age and happiness have mellowed me somewhat) that he cared enough to at least semi plan a surprise visit. That in all the weeks leading up to it, every time I called him, or e-mailed him, he had to stop himself from telling me everything. In that way, his secrecy means more to me than I can ever say.

It all started out far too easy. I'd never admitted it to anyone (most people didn't even know that I still spoke to Ray, let alone the extent to which it happened), but I'd been worried that when we did meet again it would be awkward. Too much had happened between us, we'd both lost so much, literally and figuratively, for things to ever be the same again. I'd been scared that those first few hours, seeing his face there in front of me, I wouldn't know what to say. I'd want to keep apologising, only I'd start and then have to stop myself, and silence would just be uncomfortable. I should have known not to worry, things with Ray were never awkward, never uncomfortable. He even managed to smooth over the potential embarrassment of a meeting with Simon Brenner. And say so succinctly what we'd all been dancing around for months.

"_So that Brenner guy? Kinda seems like a dick"_

I had to hide my smile at that point. Could sense him next to me, mischievous grin etched on his face. In that moment, just as the lift doors slid shut, I knew we were going to be OK.

Having to work that day, much as I'd always hoped our first day together would just be the two of us, locked away somewhere, the hospital surroundings made it so much easier for me, much as I would deny it was ever difficult. It meant Ray could see old colleagues, catch up with friends, ease himself back into Chicago. In all the times I'd envisioned our reunion, my concerns were always for myself, for the awkwardness I was sure to feel. I never even considered that when Ray left this city he did so in the back of an ambulance, broken and bruised and unable to stand. Working that day, it helped us both. It made it feel like any other day, like we were both going to go back to our apartment after the shift and watch World Poker tour with a takeaway and cold beers.

I liked hearing about his residency, his life down South, everything we hadn't discussed over the past few months. Somehow, the talking is easier, freer, when the other person isn't really there. You can forget things like jobs, and relationships, and emotions, and focus instead on television shows, weekend plans and in-jokes.

"_What are you smiling at?"_

"_Nothing …"_

Just one look at him, one glimpse of his smile and I couldn't help myself. It lit me up from the inside, in a way that no one else has ever been able to do. I smiled the same smile I'd been wearing ever since he first took that stupid mask off. Ever since we'd started talking again, all those months ago. That smiled had helped me in more ways than I will ever admit to anyone, even him. His words, his voice, could always raise a smile to my face. I would walk into my apartment, ready to scream at the world after a shift at County and it was almost as if he knew. Because just then my computer would grab my attention, an e-mail, an IM, a stupid joke posted, and I'd smile. And remember him, and picture him smiling to, his finger hovering over the 'send' button, as somehow he found the exact words I needed to hear. Every time.

"_How does to the zoo and back sound?" _

He looked good. I had to admit that. He was good. He was relaxed and confident (without being arrogant. The kind of confidence most people spend their entire working life trying to emulate). He smiled a genuine smile, and every time he caught my eye, it blurred the edges of the last glance he'd given me, from his hospital room when I looked at him and could see no way forward. The … the deadness when he saw me had hurt me in more ways that I could admit. But now, him being here, just being here, it pushed that image further and further away that I became convinced that one more secret smile and it would fall out of my head completely.

Doctor or not, I had been surprised when he suggested we work out. I freely admit I'm no expert on prosthetics, but I wasn't expecting that. For him to not only be walking, but running, sprinting. Practically back to … back to himself before the wedding. I had to pause when he shot off ahead of me, just to step back and simply watch him. Watch how far he'd come in the few years that I'd known him. Ray had quickly become the most important person in my life almost as soon as he'd entered it, despite there being several other more likely candidates. He was the person I spoke to each morning, the person I wished goodnight. The one who recorded the shows I wanted to watch and never judged me on them. I'd missed him ever since he'd gone home to Baton Rouge. And while I couldn't argue with him leaving, it didn't stop me being so grateful that he came back.

"_I love this song"_

"_Cool tune"_

Even I had to laugh at that. That even with miles dividing us, and separate lives now, we could still find something in common in the most obscure places. The song was a simple track on a compilation CD that Abby had given me a few months ago (I suspect it was one of Luka's she wanted to 'loose' before the move) and most of it was rubbish. A nice easy listening CD, but I'd always loved that one song. It made me smile, and was always good for evenings when all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and throw yourself a pity party.

But here, now, with him, his arms around me and his chin resting gently on my head, it was different. We were different. Today, in the space of just a few hours, we'd shared everything. Spoken about the things we'd kept hidden from each other. Swaying to the music, it was all too perfect. And that wasn't right, not when I still blamed myself for everything that had happened to him, not when I knew if I hadn't handled things differently then maybe this dance wouldn't be our reunion, maybe it would be our life.

"_Neela, let it go … I have" _

He was there, suddenly, his face inches from mine as he leant down, the tip of his nose brushing mine as I felt the heat of his breath burn my lips. I leant my head back, eagerly awaiting his kiss.

I'd never been any good with kids, and now apparently they were punishing me by ruining what had been a very romantic, overdue moment. Ray had forgiven me (something I still couldn't do for myself), and even after I'd bared my soul to him, he still wanted me. Was prepared to accept me, screwed up and neurotic as I was. And then the door, the stupid door, the stupid American holiday ruining our moment. I took comfort in the fact that his hands hadn't moved from around my waist, that he wanted to ignore the attempted invasion as much as I did. The music was still playing, our bodies were still swaying as he started speaking, reassuring me yet again that it was OK, we were OK, we were stronger than that.

"_It's put everything that happened before … it's put that into perspective"_

Finally his lips brushed against mine as for the briefest second my world stood still, the music drowned out as all my senses were consumed by him. The feel of his skin underneath my hands, the gentle tickle as the finest strands of his brain grazed my forehead. For that brief moment it was just us, we were all that mattered.

And then it was over, and the world was once again refusing to simply let me be. The knock came again and when I swung the heavy wooden door open it wasn't a group of children dressed as ghosts and ghouls that stood outside. It was the one person who's appearance at the moment could freeze every muscle I owned. Simon Brenner. The one man I ever regretted being with. The others, they'd all meant something to me, and I suppose Simon must have meant to me in that moment. But after … after that he was just a clingy little man who couldn't understand why anyone would turn him down.

And now he was here, even without malice or preparation he was managing to ruin my night, Ray's night, our night. Normally I hate getting angry, it takes a lot for me to loose my cool. I suppose it's the British repression. But in that hallway, with Simon in front of me and Ray behind the door, I couldn't help myself. If I was the type of girl to lash out, I know I would have slapped him. Instead I simply told him to leave, too focused on rectifying the situation inside my apartment to enjoy the look of confusion on his face as he walked away.

"_You seem good too. So, I'm gonna go"_

My entire body screamed out as I watched him gather up his things, as I made my pathetic attempts at a resolution, as I stopped myself just short of begging. Instead I sat there, the way I always did, the way I always would, as he swung his back over his shoulder and leant in, finally giving us our kiss.

I watched him go, keeping my vigil at the window as I thought back on everything that had bought us to this moment, all the stupid fights, all the wasted moments. The screwed up way we tried so hard to resist each other. I read once that love was never ending, either you still did, or you never had, and watching him drive away, in that moment, I truly understood what they meant. Ray was, is, my past, my present, my future. He's my everything and the love I felt for him has only grown stronger over the years. I have loved others, I admit (I never once lied when I told Michael I loved him) but it was different, it was nice, sweet, romantic. With Ray it's all consuming. I can't breathe without him, I don't know how to be me without him. Which is why I clung onto his parting words, why I still do, why in those last few moments before I fall asleep they lull me gently into slumber.

"_See you soon"_


End file.
